


Dance

by Katalyna_Rose



Series: Alie Hawke [12]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Kirkwall (Dragon Age), Wedding Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 12:02:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12934869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katalyna_Rose/pseuds/Katalyna_Rose
Summary: Hawke hates parties, even ones for her own wedding, but she loves scandalizing nobility





	Dance

**Author's Note:**

> I'm quite literally sick and tired so this probably sucks, but here it is!

These gatherings with Kirkwall’s nobility were something Hawke truly hated, especially since her mother was no longer around to smooth ruffled feathers and genuinely enjoy the experience. She would rather have been almost anywhere else, including at the docks clearing out the slavers that always returned no matter how many they slaughtered or how many body parts they sent back to their masters. It had to be more expense than profit by now to attempt to steal people from Kirkwall to sell, but they were still trying. And Hawke would much rather have been with Isabela and Aveline while they rooted out another foothold.

But she rarely got what she wanted, so instead she was stuffed into a corset with a long and flowing skirt and actual high heels. The dress wasn’t really the problem, in fact she sort of liked it, but what she hated was that the man on whose arm she hung was invariably referred to as her manservant, no matter how many events they attended together. It was more frustrating than ever when this particular party was being held to celebrate their wedding.

“I told you we should have eloped,” Hawke groused to Fenris when she managed to drag him off to the punch table. “You’re worth ten of any one of these stuffed shirt baffoons…”

Fenris chuckled and fed her a grape, probably to force her to take a breath from all her muttering. “And miss a chance to see you in your beautiful gown yesterday? Never.” He kissed her blushing cheek. “And besides, there will always be those who only see my ears when they look at us. You should get used to that.”

“I’d rather set them all on fire,” Hawke muttered, downing half a glass of wine. Fenris snagged it from her hand, despite her protests, and finished it for her.

“The last thing you need right now is more alcohol, my love,” he told her. “Come dance with me, it will set tongues wagging.”

She brightened. Fenris was a very graceful dancer and even though dancing wasn’t precisely the sort of thing she enjoyed, she always had fun when it was with him. And she especially loved the way it shocked the people around them, as though they couldn’t wrap their minds around an elf with grace and class. It was hilarious that these people never knew that their servants were at least as good as they were at all this.

Fenris signaled their little band as he swept her onto the dancefloor, which cleared for them. They took up their positions, his hand stroking her cheek before settling on her waist, then waltzed through the room when the music started. As predicted, there was murmuring all around them, and Hawke smirked as she listened to it, humming along to the music under her breath.

“It’s odd to be almost as tall as you,” she observed as they danced. “I don’t usually wear heels.”

“I admit that I enjoy being taller than you,” Fenris replied, his features relaxed and a subtle smile pulling at his lips. He was enjoying the party far more than she was. “I like having a small wife.” She shivered so hard at that word, new and beautiful, that she missed her footing on the next turn. He stepped into her falter and turned it into a dip, leaving her breathless as he supported her weight. She reached up and put her hand on his cheek only to shiver again when he leaned into the touch as he pulled her back to her feet to finish the dance. They finished with a twirl and he brought her close as the song ended, his hands on the small of her back. She had one hand on his shoulder and the other she threaded into his hair as she leaned into him.

“Fenris,” she breathed, overwhelmed again by the sight of the sapphire set in the silver ring on her hand. “I love you, my husband.” It was his turn to shiver and he leaned in to kiss her with a hunger. She whimpered slightly against his lips, clutching at him and struggling to breathe. All their friends in attendance applauded, a few whistled, and the rest of the party clapped politely.

The pair of them retreated from the dance floor to be surrounded by their friends. There were several slaps on their backs and a few suggestive remarks from Isabela, and Hawke leaned in Fenris’s embrace and hummed her own little tune through it all, his arms warm and protective around her.

She lasted only an hour more before she’d had enough of the sideways looks and poorly hidden whispers. She ascended to the balcony overlooking the main room of her home, where the party was taking place, and politely clanged a spoon on a wineglass. “Everyone,” she called once she had their attention. “Get out of my house. Party’s over! I’ll be doing nasty things with my _elven_ husband shortly, so off you go!” They cleared out quickly, all of them except her friends.

“Alie, was that necessary?” Fenris asked when she rejoined their group on the main floor.

“Absolutely! You think they would have left so fast otherwise?” she leaned up and stole another kiss, the way his hands lingered on her hips telling her that he was not upset in the least. She turned to their friends. “Let’s go to the Hanged Man for a real party!”

“I thought you’d never ask!” Isabela exclaimed, eyes lighting up. “I’ve got a few bottles set aside in my room! Let’s go!”

“Let me get out of this corset first,” Hawke pleaded. “I can’t dance on tables with you in this thing!”

“So you won’t be doing nasty things with your elven husband tonight?” Fenris asked with a raised brow.

“Sure I will!” she told him with a wink and a smirk. “That just comes a little later.” He chuckled and followed her upstairs to help her get out of the corset and get changed.

**Author's Note:**

> Look, guys. LOOK.
> 
> Fenris spent his life as a slave to a Tevinter Magister, where one wrong move gets you sacrificed for your blood. No one will ever convince me that Fenris isn't smooth as shit. The guy is proven to speak at least two languages (Tevene and Trade), has a complex knowledge of Tevinter's politics and all the major players, can probably draw you an accurate map of Minrathous from memory, and definitely knows all about the finer points of being nobility simply because of his close proximity to it. No one will ever convince me that he isn't smooth as shit.
> 
> And I'd bet that he even enjoys it, when it's something he's chosen for himself. He's at this party as a host, a guest of honor, not a slave, so yeah he's gonna enjoy it. He gets to put those skills to use! And yeah, he totally enjoys watching Hawke piss off Kirkwall's nobility.


End file.
